


This Isn't What I Asked For

by going rogue (onlyastoryteller)



Series: A Room For The Night [6]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Aggressively fluffy, Harness/Bib, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, leather pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/pseuds/going%20rogue
Summary: Tim wears leather pants to the SAG Awards, and Armie takes notice.





	This Isn't What I Asked For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cumpeachx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumpeachx/gifts).



> So this is waaaay out of my comfort zone, and it's entirely possibly I screwed it up. If so, I apologize.
> 
> I've been tinkering with this for a while now. It started as a harness (bib, whatever) fic, and then those leather pants happened, and then the boys had their own ideas once I started writing, and next thing I knew it was 7500 words long. I'm not sorry about that.
> 
> 100% fiction, of course.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this romp!
> 
> For cumpeachx, who is always so encouraging and who is mostly responsible for making me brave enough to write this thing.

Tim shivered.

He should have turned up the heat before getting into position, but he hadn’t thought about it. He also hadn’t expected to be waiting naked — well, practically naked — this fucking long.

_Where was Armie?_

From where he was, Tim couldn’t see a clock. He wasn’t wearing a watch. He really had no concept of how much time had passed. He just knew it had been a _while._

A while since Armie had leaned close and whispered in his ear, his breath hot and damp.

“Want to play a game?”

A chill had skittered down Tim’s spine. Armie didn’t say those words often, but when he did—

Tim had immediately nodded, trying desperately to keep the flush from his cheeks. They were in a dimly lit corner of a dimly lit room, but there were a thousand other people there, and he couldn’t show what he was really feeling — a quickening of sorts, where his heart rate increased, his skin got tacky, and his tongue turned to cotton in his mouth. He swallowed thickly, and nodded again.

“Good,” said Armie, his voice low and dangerous. “Go back to your hotel and wait for me.”

“Now?” Tim whispered.

“Now. No one will notice. Excuse yourself to go to the restroom, then slip out. I’ll follow in a bit.”

Armie’s hand rested on the middle of Tim’s back as he spoke, and he had wide grin on his face, as if he was telling Tim some snarky joke rather than trying to turn him on.

Tim plastered a grin on his own face, giving a quick chuckle. If anyone was watching, they would see two friends laughing at something. That was all.

He turned to leave, but froze when he felt Armie’s fingers slide down his spine and hook in the waistband of his leather trousers, pulling him back. Armie’s lips brushed against his ear again and Tim did his best to appear unaffected.

“When you get there,” Armie breathed, “I want you to immediately strip — yes, those sinful leather pants too —” Armie ran his palm over the curve of Tim’s left ass cheek. Tim swallowed at the light pressure and the heat that seeped through the material, as well as the thought that if anyone was looking _just_ at that moment they would have _seen_. “— and then get on your hands and knees on the bed. Face the headboard, away from the door. Close your eyes. Don’t move until I arrive. Understand?”

Tim bit at his lower lip viciously, using the sharp pain to distract him from the way his dick was already straining against those leather pants. Thank god they were at least a _little_ resistant. He should have fucking worn underwear tonight.

“I understand,” he managed to choke out.

Then he moved away from Armie as quickly as he dared so that the man couldn’t do anything else to drive him insane.

It had taken him about a half hour to extricate himself from the after-party. He ran into too many people on the way to the bathroom, and even on the way out of the venue. He found himself claiming a headache as an excuse to explain his departure. They seemed to buy it, at least, and an hour after he had left Armie’s side he was finally fumbling with his hotel key card and jamming it into the slot. It took a couple of tries before he got it right and the door unlocked.

Once inside, he had taken a deep breath and tried to calm down. Part of him had been worried he was _late_ , and Armie would have arrived first. That would have ruined everything.

But the room was empty. Housekeeping had completed turn-down service, so only the lights on either side of the bed were on, keeping the room dim and adding to a sense of serenity. The curtains were drawn, but Tim double checked them for any gaps. He was starting to realize you couldn’t be too careful with things like that. People were always... _there_.

Glancing at the time, he set his phone on the desk and quickly got down to business. He kicked off his boots — he really really liked those boots — and socks and deposited them in the closet, then stripped off the jacket and shirt and hung them carefully.

The pants were last. He was reluctant to remove them, even though he knew that he had to. They were so fucking comfortable, and he loved the way the leather felt against his skin. And they had certainly done the trick, he mused with a smirk.

Armie wasn’t even supposed to be in L.A. tonight. They had talked about it, and with everything going on, Armie had felt like it might raise too many eyebrows if he came back from Sundance in time for the SAG Awards. Tim had considered actually asking Armie to be his plus-one — which was a ridiculous idea, but fuck if he didn’t _miss_ having the man by his side this time around the track — but had swallowed the question when Armie pointed out that people (Liz) were getting suspicious with all the time they seemed to _end up_ in the same place _by luck_.

So the plan was for Armie to stay in Utah until Monday, then slip back to L.A. where they could steal a couple of days before Tim flew to Europe. But then…

Tim hadn’t done it on purpose, he really hadn’t. Okay, so maybe a _small_ part of him was thinking that Armie might see the photos of him wearing the Hedi Slimane trousers and wish he had decided to come back, everyone else’s perceptions be damned. After all, he _had_ responded...favorably...to both the _Vanity Fair_ photos and to Tim’s whispered confession that he had kept the pants. So, okay, it’s _possible_ he was hoping for session of phone sex in response.

What he hadn’t expected was the text he got from Armie while he was still standing on the silver carpet.

_I’m on my way. Can you make plans to go to Netflix after?_

Tim had tapped out a quick response, shooting glances over his shoulder at Brian, who was watching him like a hawk, as always.

_You’re coming back to L.A.? Now?_

Armie’s reply had been immediate.

_Yes, you fucker. Congratulate the pants, they’ve done their job._

_What about what people will think when they see you?_ Tim had asked, but he was already giggling.

_Don’t worry about it. I’ve already taken care of it. It’s why you need to go to Netflix. It’s where I’ll be._

_I’ll see you there_ , said Tim.

_I’ll see your pants there._ Armie had finished off the text with a middle finger emoji, and Tim had to practice some counting and deep breathing in order to contain his excitement.

Getting to the Netflix party later, and waiting on pins and needles for a sighting of Armie, was hard. Then, when he had finally _seen_ the man, he had to keep playing it cool. He was aware of Armie’s presence at the edges of the room, chatting up handfuls of people, but he made himself wait for Armie to come to him.

Eventually, he had. They had hung out for a while then, casual, so unnervingly casual. Careful not to look at one another for too long, or more often than they looked at anyone else. Barely touching, just their shoulders bumping, a light hand on the elbow, the back of Armie’s hand brushing against his thigh...until Armie had leaned over and whispered those words in his ear, the ones that had led him here. After all of that anticipation, from the moment he had received Armie’s text, he was already on edge, _ready_.

Speaking of which — Tim glanced at the time — _shit,_ he had better get moving. Okay, he was taking the pants off. He hung them up alongside the jacket and smiled. _Thank you_ , he thought, running a finger from waistband to hem.

Then he crouched down to retrieve something from his bag. He hesitated a moment, his hand clutching the article he had been looking for.

Armie had told him to strip. He hadn’t specified — exactly — that Tim had to be _naked,_ that he couldn’t strip and then put something else _on_. Tim knew he was taking a risk, but he was pretty sure that if he put this on, and only this, Armie would be willing to overlook that he wasn’t completely bare.

After all, Armie had been rather disappointed that he hadn’t been in town the night of the Golden Globes so that he could get a chance to play with Tim’s outfit of the night. Tim had had to do some fast talking to keep the beaded, sequined harness, but he knew it was...necessary...when he saw Armie’s pout over FaceTime.

It was also, honestly, why he had chosen the pants. He sort of knew that Armie wouldn’t be able to miss this kind of thing a _second_ time.

_Okay, so maybe this whole thing had been on purpose. Sue him._

Decision made, Tim hurried across the room and into the bathroom. He carefully fit the sparkly accessory over his arms and across his chest and back, pulling the ribbons through the side buckles and tightening them.

He took a moment to examine himself in the mirror, and it made him smile. The black and purple beads glinted in the overhead light, and the sequins shimmered against his pale skin. A small giggle escaped.

Armie was going to _lose_ it. He would never expect this.

Tim quickly brushed his teeth and combed his fingers through his curls, then turned off the bathroom light and approached the bed. He had better hurry; Armie could be arriving any minute.

He crawled up onto the elevated king-sized bed and moved to the exact center. He positioned his hands under his shoulders, flexing his fingers over the mattress before settling in. He spread his knees slightly, then a little more, until he felt vulnerable, his ass cheeks spreading slightly, his soft cock and balls hanging down between his legs, exposed fully to the air in the room.

He let his head drop into a comfortable position that wouldn’t strain his neck, and then…

...he waited.

He had been waiting ever since. Sure, he didn’t know exactly how many minutes or hours — surely not _hours_ — had passed, but from the ache in his hips and his shoulders, from the slight burn in the muscles of his inner thighs, from the discomfort in his palms and knees...it felt like a long while.

And now he had to pee.

He should have gone when he came in. But he hadn’t had to go then, hours — okay, maybe it _had_ been hours — ago. But he had had three drinks at the after-party and they had caught up with him.

Armie wasn’t here yet. Tim could probably pee quickly and be back in position before that changed, and Armie would never know. He hadn’t said Tim couldn’t use the bathroom, after all. They didn’t play like that.

He cautiously lifted a hand slightly. The mattress sprang up as the weight on it retreated. Tim paused with his palm still touching the bedspread. What was the likelihood Armie would show up while he was taking care of business?

With Tim’s luck, pretty high.

Did it matter?

_Yes._

Tim thought about Armie coming into the room and seeing the bed empty, and the disappointment he would feel that Tim hadn’t followed his instructions. Tim’s stomach sank. He couldn’t move. He had to wait. He couldn’t take the risk that Armie would be disappointed and he’d ruin everything.

It wouldn’t really matter, of course. This was just a game they played. It didn’t impact their relationship. He’d emerge from the bathroom and sheepishly explain what had happened, and Armie would laugh, and kiss him, and smack his ass and tell him to get on the bed.

But still.

Seconds, minutes, longer than that passed. Tim shifted his weight back and forth every few minutes, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his joints.

Where _was_ Armie? This was taking forever.

Then a thought crossed Tim’s mind. It was a thought that made his chest tighten and his stomach flip around.

What if Armie had changed his mind? What if he wasn’t coming?

He would have called, Tim reasoned. His ringer was on. He thought it was. Most likely. He didn’t remember turning it off at any point that evening. So he would have heard a call or a message. And Armie would have called.

Unless he _forgot_.

Which was ridiculous. Armie wouldn’t forget him. Especially not after starting the game. _Especially_ not after having flown back from Sundance specifically to be with Tim.

Although...Tim thought back to the party. Sometimes when Armie was drinking, he was a little forgetful. Time would pass and he wouldn’t realize it. He would have _meant_ to follow in a half hour, but then he might have done a round of shots, or two. Maybe _one more round_ turned into seven and then Armie stumbled home and passed out?

It had happened before.

There were two other occasions, and that wasn’t even counting the times in Crema, where Armie had promised to follow at a discrete distance and had left him hanging. Not like _this_ , but Tim wasn’t going to forget what that felt like. Once it had been because of the alcohol and the pot. Once it had been because he couldn’t get clear of Liz. But both times Tim had waited, finally getting an apologetic text and call in the morning, Armie begging for forgiveness and swearing it would never happen again.

Tim hadn’t believed him. But what was he going to do? He wasn’t the only person in Armie’s life. He wasn’t even the most _important_ person in Armie’s life. And just because some photos of some tight leather pants had made Armie horny enough to get on a plane didn’t mean that he wouldn’t do _again_ what Tim knew he was capable of doing.

Tim blinked rapidly, trying to keep the moisture from spilling over. He’d feel like an _idiot_ if he perched here all night, freezing and getting sore and giving himself kidney stones and Armie was snoring and drooling in his own bed.

How long should he wait? Until the sun came up? To be sure? He couldn’t wait that long.

Tim blinked faster and sniffed. _Shit_ , this was stupid. He should get up, pee, and then check his phone. Maybe it was on silent after all.

But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move because what if he was wrong and it hadn’t been that long. Maybe a half hour, an hour at most? His sense of time was warped because he was staring at this painted wooden headboard, eyes tracing the scrollwork patterns, thinking about nothing.

Tim closed his eyes and sniffed again. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not for a while. He felt one tear escape and roll its way down his cheek, stubbornly clinging to his chin. Then a second, and a third.

Just as his chest had started to clog and he was ready to let out a sob, he heard a click.

He froze, squeezed his eyes shut, and listened.

The door opened. Footsteps. The door closed.

Then, a sharp intake of breath and a low “Fuck.”

_He was here. Armie was here. He hadn’t forgotten._

Tim felt his shoulders sag in relief, but he immediately stiffened again, trying to maintain the pose, even though everything had started to tremble and shake.

Armie’s feet made soft sounds on the carpet as he drew near.

“Jesus Christ, Tim,” Armie murmured. “You’re so... _fuck.”_

Tim jumped when he felt Armie’s fingers tracing along the edge of the harness where it stretched across his back. Over and around and down — Tim gasped slightly as Armie’s hand skimmed along his left ribs where the harness was longer.

Armie flattened his palm against Tim’s hip, smoothed it over his ass, then up his spine, where it bumped over the harness. Then his fingers tangled in Tim’s curls and he gently pulled Tim’s head upwards so he could look him in the face.

Tim kept his eyes shut, but he heard Armie’s gasp.

“Baby,” murmured Armie. “Are you — you’ve been crying.” The bed shifted and the mattress sagged, and Tim knew Armie had perched on the edge and then scooted closer. The hand in his hair released the curls and slid around to cup his cheek. “Shit. What’s wrong?”

Tim shook his head and gulped. Hearing Armie’s voice, soft and full of concern, made the sobs threaten to bubble up again, and he was determined to keep them down.

“Timmy, come on,” said Armie, his voice light and his tone soothing. “Open your eyes. Look at me. What’s the matter?”

Tim opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the dim light. Armie was watching him closely, his eyes probing for answers. Tim shook his head again.

Something shifted in Armie’s face, and his voice became firm. “Tim. I need you to talk to me. Are you hurting? Tell me what’s going on.”

Okay. That was a command. Tim could tell the difference. He drew in a shaky breath, and then another.

“I just...I feel like it’s been a long time,” he said. “Since the party.”

Armie frowned. “It’s barely two,” he said. “You left Netflix about an hour and a half ago.”

_Only an hour and a half?_ Tim blinked. That meant he had been waiting in the room, and on the bed, an hour. Tops. An hour wasn’t that long. Still longer than he had thought it would take, but not....

Armie stroked a thumb across Tim’s cheek. “You thought I forgot about you,” he said softly.

Tim’s eyes drifted closed again, and he felt a lingering tear leak out the corner of his left eye. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, st—_

“Okay, hey.” Armie brushed the tear away, then leaned down and kissed the streak of wetness. “I thought it would be fun. You knowing I was coming, but not knowing when, waiting in anticipation. Thinking about you here like this, listening for me...I’ve been hard since you left my side. But I wanted it to be fun, not — I’m sorry.”

_Fun._ Tim swallowed. He could see that, how Armie had thought it would enhance things, the anticipation. Hadn’t _he_ been thinking about that all night too, how the _waiting_ — waiting to find out what Armie thought of the pants, waiting to see the man himself, waiting for the moment when they could finally be together and _touch_ rather than just look…

Yeah. Okay. Armie definitely had a point, there. Tim felt himself nodding, his cheek sliding against Armie’s warm, solid palm.

“It’s fine,” he said, opening his eyes. His voice came out reedy and weak, and so he cleared his throat and tried again. “You were right, I just...got in my head a little. I shouldn’t have—”

He broke off as Armie swooped in and pressed his mouth against Tim’s. The kiss was an apology, and a reassurance, and it was exactly what Tim needed in that moment. He responded, parting his lips, and Armie took everything that Tim was willing to give. After a moment, the apologies and reassurance gave way to something more urgent, and Tim let out a soft whine.

Armie pulled back. “You okay?” he asked softly, his eyes search Tim’s features.

“Yeah,” said Tim. He pushed the corners of his lips up into what he hoped was a smile. It was hard to figure out what he was feeling, but he knew he _needed_ something from Armie, and the only way he was going to get it was to make sure Armie knew he really was okay.

“You sure?” asked Armie. He hooked a finger under Tim’s chin and tilted his face up gently. “We don’t have to —”

“I’m sure,” said Tim. He rolled his shoulders and then arched his back, feeling the stretch in his aching muscles. He wiggled his ass and raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been waiting all this time, after all...don’t I get a reward for that?”

Armie sat back and smirked, his blue eyes regaining that twinkle that Tim knew meant he was ready to play. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice dropping into the lower register once more. “Do you really deserve it?”

“That’s up to you. Sir,” said Tim. He closed his eyes and re-focused, straightening his shoulders and spreading his knees farther out on the mattress.

“Hmmmm.” The mattress sprang back into place as Armie stood, and Tim felt the prickle of anticipation on his naked skin. He listened, hearing movement from his left, then maybe from behind him.

He jumped when he felt fingers on his back again, because he hadn’t expected it. Armie was getting better at moving silently.

“This,” murmured Armie, tracing over the harness once more, “this isn’t what I asked for. I thought I told you to strip.”

Tim stayed silent until he felt a light tap on his left ass cheek. “I did strip. I took off every single thing I was wearing. You didn’t say I had to be naked. I wasn’t wearing _this_ at the time.”

A chuckle. “Smart-ass,” said Armie. “But you look beautiful.”

A single finger trailed down Tim’s spine, to the cleft between his ass cheeks. He held his breath as the finger dipped slightly down and then back up.

“I have been dreaming about this ass all night,” said Armie. Tim gasped as two warm palms covered him and squeezed, separating his cheeks and exposing him to the cool air in the room. “You wore those pants to tempt me.”

“Yes,” whispered Tim.

“It worked.”

“Yes.”

A finger traced around the edges of his hole, and Tim whimpered. He had been half-hard since their kiss, and Armie was taking him the rest of the way there with just a few simple touches.

“What if I hadn’t been able to come back?” asked Armie. “What if I really had been stuck in Utah? Would you have wanted me to suffer?”

“N-no,” said Tim, shivering as Armie cradled his balls in one palm.

“No?”

“No. I didn’t think you’d come back. I thought we’d — _ah_ — I thought we’d FaceTime.”

“Oh?” Armie sounded interested, and went back to playing with the edges of Tim’s pucker. “And what would we have done?”

“I would have shown you the...pants,” said Tim. It was starting to get hard to think straight as Armie continued to gently stroke everything but his dick. “And I would have...jerked off for you to see.”

“Mmmmm,” said Armie. “Next time.”

Tim cried out as Armie circled his cock in his giant hand, gave him one swift stroke, and then he _fucking_ _let go_.

_“Fuck,_ ” he muttered.

“You like that?” asked Armie, teasingly.

Tim moaned and shifted his hips, seeking contact again. “Please,” he breathed.

“Please what?” asked Armie. He had removed his hands from Tim entirely, and Tim let his head drop to hang down towards the bed.

“Please...touch me,” he managed.

Then a finger was on his hole again, slippery and cool. Tim bit his lip on a harsh cry as Armie breached him slowly, sliding a finger in to the knuckle and then holding, unmoving. Tim groaned loudly and shifted his hips forward and back.

“Good boy,” said Armie.

Tim sent up a prayer of thanks at the permission, and angled his hips the best he could so Armie’s finger began to hit just the right spot.

He nearly lost it entirely when Armie’s other hand, slick with lube, circled his cock and began to stroke. His moans increased in tempo and volume as Armie continue to work him towards orgasm. He was almost there, and he prepared himself to hold back — there was no fucking way Armie was going to let him come so quickly, no matter how fervently he was murmuring Tim’s praises at the moment.

But then, just as he was barreling towards that ultimate destination, he had another sensation. He had forgotten, when Armie came into the room, with the relief he felt, and the desire to please, but...Tim really had to fucking pee. It had come back with a vengeance, and now his moans turned into something a little more desperate.

“Armie, please—” he managed, tried to get out what he needed.

“Not yet,” Armie said. “Not for a while yet. We’re not even close. I’m still fully clothed.”

“No,” said Tim, and then moaned it. “Nooooo, not — stop, I need — please —”

Armie’s hands were off of him and out of him in an instant. He must have sensed the shift in Tim, the way he was tensing up, and not in a good way, because suddenly he was at the head of the bed, his hands cupping Tim’s face.

“Tim,” he said. “Open your eyes.”

Tim did, blinking away the fuzziness, to see Armie peering at him intently.

“What’s going on?” asked Armie.

“I just have to...I have to...please let me go and pee.” Tim felt himself flushing at having to voice the question. Shit, that was embarrassing.

Relief washed over Armie’s face, and a smile broke over his features. “Oh, that’s it? Yeah, of course. Go ahead, baby.”

Armie stood and stepped away from the bed. Tim’s need to relieve himself was more urgent than ever, and he frantically crawled towards the edge of the bed. His limbs were stiff from being in the same place so long, and when he tried to get to his feet, they weren’t prepared to take his weight. He stumbled, and Armie jumped forward to catch him.

“Woah,” he said. “Okay. Let me help you.”

Tim used Armie’s solid chest to right himself, then tested his legs again. Shaky, but holding.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You sure?” asked Armie. But Tim had already launched himself across the room towards the bathroom.

It was close, but he managed to slam the door behind him and get himself under control enough to do what he needed. Afterwards, he stood, his hands braced on the counter, breathing hard. When he looked up, he grimaced at what he saw. His face was sweaty and pale, curls plastered at his temples.

_Shit._ He had fucked this up. This wasn’t hot, this was just pathetic.

He gave himself a few minutes, then splashed cold water on his face and patted dry with one of the soft hand towels. He examined himself again. Better, a little, but he still looked a mess.

If he took much longer, Armie was going to come investigate, so Tim shook himself, straightened his shoulders, and opened the door.

He had half expected to find Armie standing just outside, waiting for him, but instead he was sitting on the bed, still fully clothed, his back against the headboard. He was staring down at his phone, but when Tim stepped out of the bathroom, he set the phone aside and looked up.

“Hey,” said Armie. “Everything okay?”

Tim nodded. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Armie watched him carefully a minute, and then held out his hands. “Come here,” he said.

But Tim didn’t move. Why was Armie sitting on the bed? He was ready to go back to where they had been before he had stopped everything. Before he had _ruined_ everything _._

“Tim?” asked Armie.

Tim took a cautious step forward and swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to screw it up.”

Armie frowned. “What are you talking about? You didn’t — would you just come _here_?” He gestured Tim forward, and Tim went.

He crawled onto the bed and into Armie’s lap, sighing as Armie wrapped around him like a blanket. He felt Armie’s lips in his hair, and nuzzled closer. Armie wasn’t mad, but he must be disappointed. Still, he was stroking his hands up and down Tim’s back and making soft, soothing noises. He began to massage the muscles in Tim’s arms, and Tim moaned in pleasure.

Shit, he was going to be _sore_.

After a while, Tim took a breath and asked the question that was rattling around in his head.

“If I hadn’t stopped everything, would you still want—”

“Shhhh.” Armie put a finger to Tim’s lips. “You did nothing wrong, Tim. I did, and I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Tim pushed himself up and lifted his head so he could look in Armie’s face. “You?” he asked. “What do _you_ have to be sorry about?”

Armie shook his head. “I fucked this all up. You started it so well, wearing those fucking pants, and teasing me with the way you were just out of reach at Netflix, and then you were here, looking like a goddamned work of _art_ , and then...I made you wait too long, and…” he sighed. “I don’t want this.”

A chill worked its way down Tim’s spine, and he stilled. “You don’t want... _what_?” asked Tim. _Don’t say me, please don’t say me,_ he thought wildly.

“I don’t want...this, with you upset and feeling shitty. Playing these games, is supposed to be fun. Just fun. Another way to make you happy. I never — _never_  — wanted you to be uncomfortable or upset or in pain or...to think you couldn’t fucking use the _bathroom_.” Armie growled his frustration and raked a hand through his short hair, making it stick up in strange places.

He was quiet for a minute, and so Tim said, “I do have fun. I _was_ having fun. I didn’t mean to stop everything just because I was too stupid to—”

“Stop,” said Armie. “None of this is your fault, baby. You did everything right. I’m the one that wasn’t paying enough attention. I shouldn’t have left you waiting so long, I should have noticed that you weren’t enjoying—”

“I _was_ ,” said Tim, more loudly. Something shifted in his brain. What the fuck were they doing? He was wallowing over having screwed things up, Armie was wallowing over having screwed things up… He suddenly burst out laughing. “We’re so fucking stupid,” he said.

Armie looked down at him, his brows drawing together. “I just told you—”

“Both of us,” said Tim. “You’re right, this is just supposed to be fun. I promise you I was having fun. You didn’t fuck anything up. Neither did I. Now, can we please just…” He shifted until he was straddling Armie and placed his hands on Armie’s cheeks. “I came back out here hoping we could pick up where we left off. I believe you were driving me crazy, and I’d like to get back to that.”

He leaned down and kissed Armie, rolling his hips downward and drawing a light gasp from the other man. Armie gripped Tim’s hips.

“You sure?” he murmured against Tim’s mouth. “You are absolutely sure you want to?”

“Mmmm.” Tim dragged his lips across Armie’s jaw and then quickly undid his bow tie and flicked open the top three buttons of his shirt. “I’m absolutely sure.” He licked and sucked his way down Armie’s neck and buried his nose in the hairs peeking out of the open shirt.

“Well then…” Armie said, his voice dropping to its lower register again — finally.

He flipped Tim off of him and onto his back, chasing his mouth and draping himself across Tim. The fact that he was still clothed and Tim was not made Tim quake inside.

Armie grabbed Tim’s wrists and pinned them on either side of his head, then began a journey south. Tim trembled and whined as Armie attacked his collarbone, his nipples, and his stomach. His cock had risen to attention again quickly, and he could feel it jerking uncontrollably the closer Armie’s mouth —

“Tie me up,” gasped Tim suddenly.

Armie paused and looked up. “What?” he asked.

“I want you to tie me up,” said Tim again. “Please.”

Armie sat up slightly and frowned. His eyes had gone from surprised to concerned. “You’ve always said that you didn’t like—”

“I changed my mind,” said Tim. “I want it.”

It was true. In the past, Tim had balked at the idea of being tied up...or down...whatever it was. He liked responding to Armie’s commands, but the idea of being physically unable to move was a little much. Armie liked it. He knew Armie liked it, but after the first time they had talked about it, Armie hadn’t brought it up again.

“Tim,” said Armie, sitting back on his heels. “This is fine, what we’re doing right now. You don’t have to do something you don’t want to do just because you think it’ll make me—”

“I’m not,” said Tim. “I swear. I just...I want to try it.”

Armie looked at him intently. Tim tried to convey how _sure_ he was with his eyes — and he suddenly _was_ sure, more sure than he’d been about anything all night. He wanted to give this to Armie because Armie would like it. And he knew, beyond all reasonable doubt, that Armie wasn’t going to do anything he wouldn’t enjoy. He couldn’t imagine, in that moment, why he had been resistant in the past.

“We’ll try it,” said Armie. For all that Tim felt sure, Armie sounded more uncertain than Tim had ever seen him. “A little. Just a taste. What’s your safeword?”

“Crema,” whispered Tim.

“Good. If you don’t like it, _you tell me._ Safeword, or just say you don’t want it. Do you hear me?”

Tim nodded.

“No,” said Armie. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Armie.” A wide smile broke out across Tim’s face, and he laughed. “I want to do this, and if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you. I think...we need to trust each other to be honest about these things, right? Or else we’ll just keep doing what we did tonight, and thinking awful things when none of it is true.”

Armie smiled back. Then he reached over and lifted the discarded bow tie off of the nightstand. “Wrists,” he said.

Tim held out his wrists, and Armie quickly and expertly wrapped the fabric around them, tying it off and leaving a loop at the top.

“Test it,” said Armie.

Tim tried to pull his wrists apart, but the fabric held. He could move them slightly, but not much. Armie seemed satisfied. Then he got off the bed and went into the bathroom. When he came back, he had a terrycloth belt from the hotel robe.

“Arms up,” he said. Tim raised his arms over his head. Armie threaded the belt through the loop and then pulled Tim’s arms over his head, securing them to the headboard. When he was done, he stepped back and raised an eyebrow.

Tim tugged experimentally. The belt had some give to it, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Armie nodded in satisfaction.

“How does that feel?” he asked softly. He was looking down at Tim, his eyes going darker by shades, and Tim felt a tightening in his stomach.

“It’s good,” he whispered.

Armie backed up and moved towards the foot of the bed. Tim lifted his head to watch as Armie removed his clothes, piece by piece, discarding them on the floor without any care for the designer items. When he was done, he straightened up.

_Jesus_ , thought Tim. His man was beautiful. His cock twitched against his stomach. Armie must have noticed, because he smirked.

“See something you like?” asked Armie.

Tim could only lick his lips. He jerked his hands as if to reach out and touch, but they remained immobilized, and a bolt of lust zinged through him at the realization. Armie chuckled.

“It’s a little heady, isn’t it?” he asked, climbing back on to the bed. He laid a hand on Tim’s chest, brushed a thumb over Tim’s right nipple. “To be unable to touch when you want to touch.” He swiped his hand down to Tim’s stomach, which trembled under Armie’s palm. He jerked his hands again. “Unable to move to protect yourself. You just have to take whatever I choose to give you.”

Tim moaned softly. “Please,” he whispered. Armie’s hand was less than an inch from his dick and he _needed_ —

“Not yet,” said Armie. He shifted to Tim’s feet. “I have some exploring to do first.”

For the next...who knows how long, but it felt like hours again...Armie ran his fingers lightly over every part of Tim’s body _except_ the parts that were so desperate to be touched. They traced lines and drew circles across Tim’s chest, up and down his neck, along his collarbone. They danced over his hips and groin, behind his knees, around his ankles. Armie hummed in satisfaction as Tim’s moans and pleas increased, as he tugged at his bindings, as he tossed his curls back and forth, but he didn’t increase the tempo or the pressure.

Finally, Armie stopped, and Tim groaned. After a moment of silence, he opened his eyes and saw Armie watching him intently.

“What?” he asked, feeling breathless.

“Still doing okay?” asked Armie.

Tim nodded.

“Think you might want...to go a little further?”

“Maybe,” he said.

Armie smiled. “I was just thinking that this contraption…” he traced his fingers along the edge of the sparkly harness, “...could be put to better use.”

Tim swallowed and his pulse rate increased. “Okay,” he whispered.

“You don’t know what I want to do yet,” said Armie.

“I said okay,” said Tim. “Remember, you have to—”

“Trust you. Yeah,” said Armie. “If it’s too much, just say so.”

Then he quickly undid the ties holding the harness in place and slipped it out from under Tim. He examined it for a minute, and then, with a look of concentration, he set to work. When Armie grasped Tim’s left thigh and looped one side of the harness around it, Tim tensed.

Armie stopped immediately, and waited. Waited for Tim to say something, probably. To tell him to stop. Tim took a slow breath and relaxed, letting his leg go boneless in Armie’s hand. After a moment, Armie resumed his work.

Within minutes, both legs were pulled wide and high, bound to his shoulders. He was completely immobilized now, completely exposed. Tim’s breathing had become shallow, and he had squeezed his eyes shut, trying to adjust to the helpless sensation. He jumped when he felt Armie’s warm palm on his chest.

“How does that feel?” asked Armie gently.

Tim took a moment to take stock, willing himself to take slow, deep breaths. It felt…

“Like there’s nothing I can do to resist you,” said Tim, opening his eyes. “Like I’m completely, entirely, totally yours.”

Armie let out a groan and leaned down to crush his lips against Tim’s. “You _are_ ,” he murmured. “Fuck, Timmy, you…”

Tim gasped as Armie moved like lightning to the foot of the bed and brought his mouth to Tim’s cock without warning. Armie dragged the flat of his tongue from base to tip, and Tim let out a high whine.

The whine turned to a loud moan as Armie swallowed him down in one quick motion. Tim wanted to thrust up into Armie’s mouth, but couldn’t move, and that knowledge made him even harder.

“Holy shit,” he managed, before giving in to the moans once more. Armie worked him for only a minute before pulling off with a soft _pop_ and Tim shivered.

“Hold on,” said Armie softly. “Just hold on and feel it.”

Tim let out a grunt of surprise when he felt Armie’s tongue tapping at the edges of his hole. He twisted his head to the side and buried his face in his shoulder to muffle the cries that Armie was pulling from him without mercy. Armie’s licked and sucked at the sensitive area, and then plunged inside with sharp thrusts. He wrapped a hand around Tim’s cock and began to slowly stroke it in time with the movement of his tongue.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” muttered Tim, once again straining at his bindings, desperate to move and take what he wanted. But he couldn’t. He was stuck, spread open, and could do nothing but what Armie had told him to do: _hold on and feel it_.

He felt an orgasm building, and heard himself begging. It wasn’t even conscious at this point, exploding out of him with increasing urgency. Just as he thought he wasn’t going to be able to hold back another second, Armie withdrew.

Tim lay, whimpering, feeling the urgency recede slowly. He jerked his hands again, and moaned.

“Still okay?” asked Armie. Tim opened his eyes and nodded.

“Fuck,” he managed on a shaky breath. “Please, baby, I need—”

His words cut off on a grunt when Armie thrust a lubed finger inside him. Normally, he would shift his hips around, helping Armie find just the right—

_There._

Armie didn’t need his help. He heard a hum of satisfaction, and then a quiet. “Such a good boy, look at you.”

Tim was nearly crying with the need to come, and his begging began again in earnest.

“Hold on,” said Armie. “Almost there.”

Armie withdrew his finger and Tim felt the thicker, blunt pressure of Armie’s dick pressing against him. He was crying now, and he couldn’t even help it.

“Shhhh,” said Armie, sliding in slowly. “That’s it, Timmy. I’m right here.”

Tim lost himself in the moment. He couldn’t think any longer, all he could do was yank his arms helplessly and make noises that he didn’t think he had ever made before, incoherent mumblings that may have started as words but ended as cries and whimpers.

Keeping up a stream of praise, Armie thrust in and out of him with intensity Tim had never felt from him before...and they had been fucking for two years at this point, nothing should have seemed so _new_ and _fresh_ and _desperate_. He felt the orgasm building again, and tried to keep it back, but he was beyond conscious control. He couldn’t move his legs to help him, couldn’t use his hands, couldn’t…

“Here we go,” said Armie. “You ready, baby?”

Tim may or may not have replied, but then Armie’s hand was on him again, and all it took was one touch for Tim to shoot all over himself with a scream. With his legs pulled up like this, he had no control, his muscles clenching and releasing for what seemed like an eternity.

Armie must have finished as well, because he collapsed on top of Tim with a grunt, smearing Tim’s release between them.

With Armie’s heavy, warm mass on top of him, increasing his feeling of immobilization, Tim let go. He felt himself drifting away, everything a gooey haze. Vaguely, he was aware of Armie’s lips on his chin, pressing softly against his slack lips, whispering something against his neck, but he couldn’t _quite_ grab onto any of it.

He felt Armie shaking slightly, heard what might have been a chuckle, and then the weight was gone.

The sudden draft of cool air made him come back to himself.

“Armie?” he said, though it may have been barely above a whisper.

“I’m here.” The rumble in Armie’s voice spoke of deep satisfaction and contentedness. Tim had heard it before. It was his favorite of Armie’s voices, and he smiled.

Something wet and warm moved across his skin, and he sighed. After Armie was done cleaning him up, he set to work releasing the bindings, massaging Tim’s joints one by one. Tim sighed.

Eventually, Armie had them both under the covers of the king-sized bed, Tim nestled on his chest.

Tim wavered on the edge of sleep for a while, reveling in the feel of Armie’s arms around him, his chest rising and falling under Tim’s cheek.

A thought danced through his mind and made him smile. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, and all that came out was a bit of slurred nonsense.

“What was that, baby?” asked Armie, his lips moving in Tim’s hair.

Tim licked his lips and tried again.

“Are you happy you came here?” he asked. “From away? Early?”

“God, yes,” said Armie. “You know I am.”

“Mmmmm. So it was good I wore the pants, then?”

Tim felt Armie’s chest shaking underneath him.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I sort of have...a confession to make,” said Armie.

With effort, Tim lifted his head and twisted his neck. He rested his chin on Armie’s chest and peered up at the man with a frown. “A confession?”

Armie smiled at him. “Yeah. I didn’t decide to come back because of the pants,” he said.

“You didn’t?”

“Nope. I was already at the airport, waiting to board my flight, when I saw the silver carpet photos.”

He was already at the airport. Before he saw Tim’s pants. That meant…

“So you...had already decided to come back? But why?”

Armie tilted his head to the side. Tim watched his eyes go liquid. “Because I wanted to be with you tonight,” he said. “And I decided it was stupid to stay away.”

“Oh.” Tim thought about it a moment. “I guess I thought...that I had made you want me so bad you dropped everything to come back.”

“Tim…that’s pretty much my constant state. You didn’t need the leather pants for that.” He ran a hand through Tim’s hair and then down his back. “But...in case I haven’t made it clear, it wasn’t what I asked for, but…” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “ _I really liked the pants._ ”

Tim shivered.


End file.
